


Wandering Bark

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Season 5.5 [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, FIx It, Post Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw has a god, a dog, and her girl back (Not that she'd ever call Root that to her face). So what's next? Of course with these two, and The Machine's hand picked squad of mercenaries, getting back to the business of saving numbers wasn't going to go entirely smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Bark

**Author's Note:**

> A bunch of y'all requested I do more with the team/AU I created in A Fixed Mark so here you go. This was supposed to be a chapter. A chapter. Apparently I am incapable of going small with these two. So stand alone one shot season 5.5 it is.  
> Basically, I come up with these fix it ideas and then I'm always well the intial reunion was great but how does Lionel find out. I can't help it I kind of love the guy.

 

Hector Vargas was a businessman, so he fully understood the concept of supply and demand. Men the whole world round demanded beautiful young women and he supplied them for the right fee. The boys in his crew found them at clubs and house parties and then brought them here to his yacht for a special celebration. A few unique party favors, and the girls were pliable enough to be taken anywhere. They were typically moved to various holding centers through the Caribbean until they were ready to be transferred into the hands of paying customers.

 

Typically, it was a beautiful system. Easy money. Less hassle than running drugs and the fringe benefits couldn’t be argued. He cocked his head to the side as he stepped into the yacht’s great cabin. However, someone seemed to have missed a step with his current supply.

 

Fifteen girls had been brought onto the boat the night before. Thirteen of them were passed out all over the large space. Two were still standing. Though, Hector thought as he scratched his chin, he could work with this. He nodded to his top lieutenant, “Have someone get an injectable for lil mama over there.” He pointed to the shorter of the two women, a scowling brunette in an American flag bikini. “But I think I’ll keep the china doll for myself.”

 

The woman in question rolled her eyes. “Can I shoot this racist asshole yet?”

 

Hector and the men began to laugh. “Shoot me?” He looked her up and down. She was wearing a purple string bikini, nothing else. “I don’t know where you’re packing honey but you’re still outnumbered eight to two.” She shrugged. The men laughed louder. “And you know, we’re all packing a little something special.” He pulled his gun from the waistband of his pants to illustrate his point. Beretta 92 chrome. He waved the boys forward with it. “Try not to scratch the merch.”

 

“Thanks for letting us know which of you morons was in charge,” The shorter one replied. “And we’re taking those guns in three, two…”

 

The cabin lights went out.

 

Muzzle flashes created a syncopated strobe effect to the soundtrack of Hector’s men’s shouts and groans. Something or someone hit him in the back, causing him to stumble forward. There’s a sudden sharp pain in his wrist and then everything was quiet again. Hector regained his footing and tried to look around. He could see nothing in the dark.

 

When the lights came back up a breath later, the Asian woman was holding Hector’s own gun against his temple. The heat from the barrel caused his eye to twitch. “What? How?” He gasped.

 

“You didn’t shoot him.” The smaller one noted. She was holding the sawed off shotgun his lieutenant favored in one hand and a still smoking Glock 9mm in the other. All of his men were on the ground, knocked out or groaning.

 

“I wanted him to see it coming,” The Asian woman offhandedly replied.

 

“What?” These bitches were crazy. This was crazy. How did they do this?

 

Bang.

 

“Seriously, when are we getting home?” Shaw growled at her laptop six hours later. She was back in her normal wardrobe of jeans and a hoodie. The obnoxiously patriotic bikini lay abandoned on the bathroom floor. She was so going to shank Root for packing it.

 

“I can’t control the weather, Sweetie. Judging by the radar its practically a monsoon out there.”

 

“This,” Shaw gestured towards the bedroom window in the condo they had broken into. Dark billowing clouds filled the horizon, accentuated by the occasional pop of lightning. “It’s barely drizzling.”

 

“For now. But if Tropical Storm Marta decides to turn west instead of north.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw grumbled, not pleased at all with the thought of being stuck there.

 

“It’s cute that you miss me so much, Sam.”

 

“That’s not what this is.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Which one is she talking to?” Everett asked from his perch on one of the kitchen barstools. He was holding a bag of frozen vegetables to a knot on the side of his head. Shaw had left the bedroom door open so her voice easily carried through to where he was sitting.

 

Dr. Kinney considered the question from her post by the pantry. She had decided to try and find something semi edible for the group as it appeared they’d be staying the evening. The kitchen was stocked with an alarming amount of junk food and liquor. Though that was probably to be expected in Daytona Beach. “They’re flirting so I assume it’s Root,” She mumbled distractedly as she checked the ingredients list on a box of macaroni and cheese.

 

“Pretty sure Siri flirts with Shaw too.”

 

“That’s Root,” Sonam replied stepping between the two of them to grab a bag of chips. “The Machine typically speaks about an octave lower and never calls her Sam.” At their blank stares she smirked and left the kitchen to sprawl out across the couch in the living room. “Oh Pacific Rim is on.”

 

“No,” The pair in the kitchen shouted in unison. Though Everett winced after he did so from the volume. Pacific Rim always seemed to be on whenever they had down time lately.

 

“Ugh, fine.” They could hear the channels rapidly changing. “How about rugby?” There was a crinkling noise as the bag of chips was opened. “Sar? Can you bring me a drink?”

 

Dr. Kinney rolled her eyes but moved over to the fridge. She frowned upon inspecting its contents. “All they have is domestic beer.”

 

“Break up a human trafficking ring and your only reward is piss beer,” Sonam groaned. “Any port in a storm, I’ll suffer a bottle.”

 

Dr. Kinney dug three beers and a bottle of water out of the fridge. She handed one and the water to Everett. “The beer is for Shaw. Water for those of us with minor concussions.”

 

“I still don’t understand rugby,” He complained as he stood up from the stool and wandered into the living area to join Sonam. He placed Shaw’s beer on the coffee table and flopped down onto a large beanbag chair just in front of the dark green sofa Sonam was sprawled across.

 

“Think of it as your American football, if it weren’t for pussies,” Dr. Kinney instructed him as she walked by to hand Sonam her bottle of beer before settling into an arm chair to watch the game.

 

“Ha!” Sonam snorted. She saluted Dr. Kinney with her bottle of beer. “Nice.”

 

“So we’re stuck here for the night at least,” Shaw grumbled as she slumped down on the couch near Sonam’s feet.

 

“Mention pussy and look who appears,” Sonam muttered under her breath. Dr. Kinney snorted. Thankfully, Everett wasn’t paying attention to her, already caught up in the game.

 

Shaw however, narrowed her eyes, “What was that?”

 

“Are you a rugby fan, Shaw?” Dr. Kinney asked to deflect any murderous intent away from Sonam. She knew the other woman was simply taking the piss out of their XO but she didn’t think Shaw was in the mood to allow such a comment. It was sweet how devoted she was to Root.

 

Not that she would ever say that aloud. Much less to Shaw’s face. Dr. Kinney quite liked her internal organs exactly where they were.

 

“I’m a fan of anything where someone might get punched in the face.” Shaw snatched the bag of chips out of Sonam’s hand. “I might demonstrate later.”

 

After a week, because Tropical Storm Marta did indeed veer west instead of north, the bitch, Shaw finally came home. “Root,” She called out pushing open the door to a bedroom in the east wing of the giant house The Machine had set the team up in for now. Skynet had directed her to the room on arrival, telling her Root’s belongings had been taken here. “Why is all your stuff moved?”

 

“Because I didn’t need to be observed for medical purposes anymore,” Was the reply that drifted from further into the space. Shaw was actually standing in what amounted to a sitting room. A couple of couches, a coffee table, and a desk covered in computer shit made up the furnishings. Bear looked up from an enormous doggie bed next to the desk. He was chewing on what looked like one of Root’s stupid bunny slippers again. Shaw swore the woman ordered them in bulk because Bear liked destroying them so much.

 

Root’s voice came from a door to her left, “And we needed more room for my boots and your boots. Do you realize how many pairs of boots we have between us? I think they’re reproducing somehow.”

 

“Root, I have like three pairs of shoes here,” That was including the boots on her feet, which she hastily slid off and left by the door. “If you have a pile of crap to deal with it’s because you spend too much time online shopping while hopped up on painkillers.”

 

“That doesn’t negate the fact that we needed more room for our things.”

 

Wait our? Shaw scowled. “Did you move my stuff?” Granted it was only one duffel of odds and ends she’d last seen around the subway before it magically appeared in Root’s former room. She made her way through a spacious bedroom, following the sound of Root’s voice to what was probably an en-suite bathroom given the faint splashing sound she was also picking up.

 

Root sighed, “Yes, Sameen. Seeing as you’ve spent every night you’ve been here in my room, I assumed that you’d be continuing the habit when I relocated.”

 

“I know we’re the furthest thing from what you’d call normal but don’t people have an actual conversation before moving in together?”

 

Shaw stepped into the bathroom to see Root lounging in a large claw foot tub. The air was steamy; she must have taken a shower in the massive, glass walk-in next to the tub before settling in for a soak. It also smelled like Root’s ridiculously expensive shampoo, bright, floral with a hint of spice. She only used it when she was in-between undercover assignments, when the only identity she needed was her own. Shaw took a deep breath letting it fill her lungs, holding it there, savoring it like one would a good smoke.

 

“There’s another bedroom on the other side of the sitting area. I put your things in there,” Root bit her lip, uncharacteristically nervous. “I don’t want to crowd you Sam, but after everything that’s happened I’d like it if you were close whenever possible.”

 

Shaw found that the idea didn’t make her as uncomfortable as it should have. Honestly, she didn’t basically die seven thousand odd times because she didn’t like being around Root. And if the hacker’s “death” had taught her anything it was that the world was better when Root was around to annoy the crap out of her. She had already decided that being together, whatever that meant for them, was what she wanted. Root making sure that she’d have her own corner to retreat to when she needed it, only showed that Shaw had made the right choice sticking around.

 

When Shaw didn’t say anything Root decided to go for the tried and true innuendo route, “Of course you have a standing invitation to share my bed, or tub, whenever the mood strikes.”

 

Shaw walked over to the tub. She put an arm on either side of it and leaned in to look Root in the eyes. “You know I can get pretty damn moody.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like a no?” Root cocked her head to the left, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

 

“All this time you’ve been faking the genius bit on your resume, huh?”

 

Root’s eyes widened. “You’re saying yes? Really?”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

“I thought I’d have to argue you down,” She laughed. “All that time wasted prepping a speech.”

 

“If you want to take it back,” Shaw started to pull away.

 

“No,” Root lifted her left leg and hooked it around Shaw’s waist. She was a little overzealous in her haste to keep her from leaving however. Meaning Shaw fell into the tub. “Whoopsie.”

 

Shaw pushed up from the water with one hand on the bottom of the tub between Root’s legs. She glared at her from between strands of wet hair. “On second thought, you’re not really selling me on this idea.”

 

Root reached for the hem of Shaw’s shirt, “Give me a minute. My pitch is just getting started.”

 

“Okay, you make a good argument,” Shaw mumbled contentedly three hours later.

 

“Mmm,” Root stretched out across the bed beside her. “I missed that.” They had gone from the tub, to the bedroom wall, floor, and finally the bed. It was their first time reconnecting since before Harry’s number came up. Shaw had been adorably overprotective, wanting to wait until Root received a clean bill of health. It had been a frustrating few weeks, but ultimately worth it given the results. 

 

Shaw grinned. She was laying on her belly, her head resting on her folded arms. “Well, seeing as we just made a porno for your evil twin I’m sure you can relive it in HD whenever you want.”

 

“Actually, there are no cameras in this suite and outside of emergencies, she promises not to speak unless spoken to while you’re in here.” She reached out and trailed her fingers along Shaw’s back. There were a few deep scratches she’d need to clean later. “We’re both serious about not pushing you.”

 

“I,” Shaw began but she didn’t know how to articulate the tight feeling in her chest the gesture created. After a breath she settled for, “Thanks.”

 

Root smiled softly, seeming to understand what Shaw couldn’t say as perfectly as always. “You know I’d do anything for you. She feels the same.”

 

“And that’s in no way creepy or anything.”

 

“I think it’s sweet.” She turned on her side and propped her head up on her bent elbow.

 

“You would,” Shaw scoffed.

 

“She cares about you Sameen,” Root playfully rolled her eyes, “Deal with it.”

 

“Like I have a choice in the matter?”

 

Root’s expression turned serious, “Would you walk away if you did?”

 

“Don’t be stupid.” There was no walking away for either of them. They were in this until it killed them. For real this time. And knowing Root’s penchant for getting into trouble it most likely would sooner rather than later.

 

“And I don’t know why you claim you’re bad at this,” Root beamed at her. “You always seem to know the right thing to say.”

 

Shaw scoffed, “Because only you would take don’t be stupid as some grand declaration.”

 

“The fact that everyone else is too imbecilic to realize what a catch you are, shows the fault lies with them not you, Sweetie.”

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m an arrow,” Shaw grumbled good naturedly.

 

“My arrow,” Root amended. Her eyes turned glassy and soft. “My everything.” Dying had made her especially sappy.

 

Shaw shoved at her hip, “Yeah, don’t be gross either.”

 

Root chuckled but let it go. “Now I hate to bring business into the bedroom,” She began. Shaw snorted, their bedroom habits had started as business. “But She has a mission for both of us tomorrow.”

 

Shaw grinned, “What are we going to be up to?” She had missed kicking ass with Root. She was looking forward to getting back to it almost as much as she had to their getting back to bed, and the wall. Though they still needed to christen that desk now that she thought about it…

 

“You’re off to do a bit of demolition,” Root replied derailing her salacious train of thought.

 

The grin turned into a confused frown. “What do you mean I’m off to? I thought you said a mission for both of us?”

 

“I said a mission for us both.”

 

“Semantics.”

 

Root smiled indulgently at her, “You have some demo work and I have a nice irrelevant number to check on somewhere else.”

 

Shaw sat up and leaned against the headboard, “No.” No way.

 

“Sameen.”

 

“No, you’ve barely healed from the last mission you went on without me.” The thought of Root out there on her own made her guts twist. Logically, she knew it would happen eventually. But this was too soon.

 

Root tried to keep things light, “Technically, we started that one together.”

 

“Semantics again,” Shaw growled, having none of it. “And what matters is how it ended up.” She looked away, “With you in a morgue.”

 

Root was torn. Half of her wanted to swoon at Shaw’s clear concern for her wellbeing. While another part of her, the part that had never needed anyone, bristled at the implication she couldn’t handle herself. She settled for responding with something in-between, “You knew I was going to start working again as soon as Sara cleared me medically.”

 

“Yes, and I thought I’d be around to keep an eye on your accident prone ass.” Shaw looked at her again but Root couldn’t quite read what was in her eyes.

 

“It’s just a little mob hack,” She attempted to explain, “Nothing too strenuous. It’ll be a good warm up for me.” Root sat up as well placing herself at a right angle to Shaw. “I doubt I’ll even get to shoot anyone, but I’ll get to practice my Russian. It’s important to keep those language skills up.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on. “But you’re not going alone.”

 

“So glad you agree, Sweetie. Because we figured that I could also kill two birds with one stone.” Shaw cocked an eyebrow waiting for Root to explain that one. “I run a mission to work out the kinks and I take Everett off your hands for a few days. Evaluate his skills for myself.”

 

“Hell no,” That idiot would get Root killed. For real this time. “No way is that happening.”

 

“Sam,” Root pouted.

 

“Take Sonam, or the doc,” She suggested as a compromise. Either would be far better back up than the kid.

 

“You’ll need them more with you.”

 

“Can’t it wait until I can back you up?” For that matter if it was just a bit of hacking, why did Root have to go anywhere to do it? She’d watched her remotely access shit on the other side of the world loads of times before.

 

“Everett will be fine.” Root smiled at her, “She sees potential in him.”

 

Shaw wondered if there was any way to speed things up so the rest of them could see it. She leaned her head back to glare at the ceiling. “Are you sure Big Sister didn’t bring him on because we already had a dog and she was jealous?”

 

“Cute.”

 

She wasn’t trying to be cute. Shaw tensed her jaw. “He fell down a hatch and concussed himself because he was too busy staring at Sonam’s ass in a bikini to pay attention to where he was walking.”

 

“Well, she does have a fantastic ass.”

 

Shaw turned her head to glare at her, “Spend much time checking it out, have you?”

 

“Is that a note of jealously I detect?” Root slid her hand across the lilac colored sheets to Shaw’s thigh. She mapped out the lines of corded muscle with her fingertips. “I may do a bit of window shopping but,” She bit her lip, “Yours is the only one I’d ever consider buying out the store for.”

 

“Where the hell do you come up with these little witticisms?” Shaw drawled. It couldn’t be natural for a body to be filled with that much bull shit.

 

“I’m a wordsmith babe.”

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “I don’t like it.” Root pouted at her. “The Everett thing. Not the word thing,” She cocked her head to the side, “Well, kind of the word thing too.”

 

“You love the word thing,” Root countered. “And just trust me about Everett.”

 

“If he causes you to get one scratch, I’ll kill him.”

 

Root licked her lips, “You being all needlessly protective sets me all aquiver.”

 

“It’s not needless,” Shaw argued. She reached out to trace the fingertip shaped bruises she had left on Roots thigh earlier. Her pale skin always preserved Shaw’s more violent affections perfectly. “The only person who gets to mark this skin up is me.”

 

“I’m already naked, Sam,” Root smiled wolfishly, “No need to hit me with the panty droppers.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes but moved to pull Root on to her lap. She was done talking. And suddenly, she wasn’t tired anymore. Root certainly seemed amenable to another round, beginning to trace her lips down the column of Shaw’s throat. She could always sleep on the plane tomorrow.

 

“So I’ll see you in a week?” Root asked the next day as they stood on the tarmac at the airfield where Shaw had first landed in Canada with Zoe. A private jet had been chartered to take Root and Everett to New York. The pilot was waiting for them to board. Another jet, this one owned by Thornhill Industries, was waiting in a nearby hangar for Sonam to pilot. She’d be taking Dr. Kinney and Shaw on their mission.

 

Shaw nodded, “Don’t do anything stupid. Remember, this is supposed to be a way to ease you back into things.” She may have agreed to this plan but there was still something nagging her about it. Though she was doing her able best to ignore it. Caring about someone was a pain in the ass.

 

“Stupid, me?” Root asked, giving Shaw her best doe eyes. She was sure it was supposed to make her look innocent but Shaw just thought it made her look more unhinged than usual.

 

“Stupid you,” Shaw nodded again, “You who drove a car with your foot while shooting at the bad guys.” She still couldn’t believe that Root had managed to pull that insane stunt off.

 

“That wasn’t stupid, that was sexy as hell,” Root replied. She tapped Shaw on the nose, “And you know it.”

 

She slapped her hand away. “Root, come on.” She needed the fool woman to take her own safety seriously for once. That was the only way Shaw was going to be able to let her do this on her terms.

 

She grabbed the lapels of Shaw’s jacket and pulled her in for a quick but deep kiss. “I’ll be careful I swear,” Root breathed when they separated. She gave her another swift peck. “You just be sure and keep that fine ass of yours in one piece.” She gave the body part in question a hearty slap. Then she skipped up the stairs and on to her plane.

 

“I’m serious, Root,” Shaw called after her as soon as she recovered her wits.

 

She stuck her head out of the doorway. “So am I. I’ve got plans for that ass when I get home.” She blew Shaw a kiss and then disappeared back into the plane.

 

Everett came to stand beside Shaw then. “She seems happy to be going out on this job.” He looked over at a frowning Shaw. “I promise I’ll watch her back, Boss.” He started towards the stairs.

 

“Hey,” Shaw grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him from walking away. She tightened her grip on the fabric until the collar began to dig into the front of his throat. Everett started to sputter and wheeze as the force on his trachea built. He bent backwards to try and relieve some of the pressure to no avail. Shaw leaned up on her toes to growl in his ear, “If anything happens to her I’ll take you apart by inches. I’ll do it slowly. Methodically. You will feel every moment and every moment will be agony.”

 

He was starting to turn red. But to his credit managed to nod with understanding. She let go. He flopped forward, hands on his thighs gasping in as much oxygen as he could. She came around to stand in front of him waiting. When Everett looked up Shaw smiled. That probably frightened him more than the choking.

 

“Don’t fuck this up.”

 

“No, ma’am,” He coughed.

 

“Go on,” She gestured to the open hatch. “You’re on a timetable here.” Everett nodded and scrambled up the stairs and on to the plane.

 

“Was that really necessary, Sweetie?” The Machine chimed in from her earpiece. Root had insisted she put the damn thing in as soon as they made it to the airstrip. She had, of course, been watching the entire time.

 

“Yes,” Shaw grunted as she sealed the hatch. Job done she stepped back and away from the plane. She caught a glimpse of Root waving to her like an idiot from one of the windows. Shaw rolled her eyes and turned to walk towards the hangar where her own ride was waiting. “Your pet project needed to know that there will be consequences if he fucks this up. Painful ones.”

 

“He knows the stakes, Shaw.”

 

“Does he?” She wasn’t so sure of that.

 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried any way. It’s an easy job and I’ll be keeping an eye on them.”

 

Oh she didn’t know? Shaw tensed her jaw. “The last job Root went out on where you were keeping an eye on things, she never came back from.”

 

“Technically…”

 

Shaw froze in her tracks. “Don’t even.” Oh no Synergy wasn’t about to use a technicality to argue her way out of this one. “In fact just stop talking.”

 

“But…”

 

“No.”

 

Dr. Kinney walked up at that moment saving The Machine from another threat to her servers. “Sonam’s done the preflight check. Just waiting for you to climb aboard.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw replied though she didn’t move. Her focus was on Root’s plane. She wasn’t used to this. To worrying about someone so much. She had no idea how normal people did it.

 

“She’ll be alright,” Dr. Kinney noted as they watched the Gulfstream taxi down the runway. “Medically speaking, she’s perfectly fine to go back out there.”

 

“Won’t stay that way long. Woman’s a bullet magnet.”

 

“I know,” Dr. Kinney agreed. “I’ve unfortunately read her medical history.” She tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels, “Tell me does she lead with her shoulders on purpose?”

 

Shaw actually chuckled at that, “Your guess is as good as mine on that one Doc.”

 

At least their mission wasn’t overly difficult. One of Samaritan’s back up facilities in Atlanta needed blowing up. And wouldn’t you know, the building suddenly got condemned by OSHA due to asbestos being found in the ventilation system. Shaw seriously wanted to laugh in the panicked employees’ faces, as she stood and watched as Dr. Kinney made the very official sounding announcement. The building was constructed in the 90s and she was pretty sure OSHA didn’t do random air quality checks in office buildings, but hey stupidity had worked in their favor.  

 

And if Shaw was a little…distracted, it didn’t effect mission progress or the outcome. She could wire charges in her sleep by now. Surprisingly, the doc was just as handy with a bit of C4. Everything went boom right as it should.

 

“You think Root has stabbed Ev yet?” Sonam asked as they flew back two whole days early. She and Shaw were in the cockpit. Dr. Kinney was napping back in the cabin. Shaw had almost suggested they detour to New York to check on the other two members of their team, but figured Root would go full on Eeyore about it if she did.

 

“Speaking of cutting,” Shaw drawled, “I think I’m going to have to cut him loose.”

 

Sonam rolled her head to the side to glance over at her from the pilot’s seat, “If you’re asking if I want to vote the kid off the island, I’m all for it. He eats my food.”

 

“If you’d stabbed him with a fork the first time he tried it, he would have learned his lesson.” There was still a fork tine pattern on the top of his left hand from the one occasion he was dumb enough to touch the food on Shaw’s plate.

 

“Stupid me for assuming he’d knock it off after one stabbing.”

 

Shaw held up a finger, “That’s my point he doesn’t learn.” The sort of missions they were taking on, there was little room for on the job training. Especially if the lessons learned didn’t take the first time you fucked up.

 

“Look Shaw, you’re the team leader. If you don’t think he’s a fit, then I’ll back you.”

 

Well, that was one vote. “Doc could go either way, but I know Root and the robot won’t like it.”

 

“And I thought they agreed to abide by your decision?”

 

Sometimes she forgot how new to this whole thing Sonam was. “Have you met Root? Woman hasn’t met the decision she couldn’t find some way to disagree with if the mood struck.” That was the whole point of this little field trip. Her way of proving Shaw wrong.

 

“That’s your girlfriend you’re complaining about.”

 

“I’m still not exactly sure how that happened.” Being with Root these past few weeks had been good, exceptional compared to the few other entanglements she had attempted. Shaw had never thought being in a relationship with someone would be this easy for her. Of course in her wildest imaginings she could have never thought up Root. She never asked for anything, seemingly content with Shaw being Shaw, whether that was grumpy, horny, angry or hungry.

 

“When two assassins love each other very much,” Sonam began. The brat.

 

“You know I can shoot you and have Big Sister fly the plane by remote?”

 

Sonam grinned over at her, “Admit it, you sort of like me.”

 

“I don’t like anyone.” There were simply people she wanted to maim less than others. Sonam was beginning to fall into that category but she wasn’t going to add any air to her over-inflated ego by even saying that much. 

 

“Well, that’s categorically untrue.”

 

“Hey Skynet,” Shaw replied to the new voice in their headsets. She glanced over at Sonam with a smirk, “You feel like flying a plane?”

 

“Not tonight, Sweetie. I’ve had a bit of a time already.”

 

There was something off in her tone, “Something up?”

 

“Root and Everett hit a tiny snag with their side mission.”

 

That was supposed to be an easy, irrelevant job. If the kid fucked it up... Shaw scowled. “Define tiny.”

 

“Claire Mahoney.”

 

Shaw straightened in her seat. That was a name she unfortunately recognized. “Samari-Teen?”

 

“Apparently, she was still holding a grudge.” The Machine paused for a beat, “Good news is Everett hit her with a car.”

 

Okay, so maybe the kid wasn’t fired. “Wait, what’s the bad news?”

 

“Claire tipped off the Bratva, before she got hit by the car.”

 

“Get Root on the line,” She growled. “Now.” She had to physically force herself to keep her hand from going to the side of her neck.

 

“I would,” The Machine hemmed. “But her phone is sort of at the bottom of the East River.”

 

“What happened?” Shaw clenched her jaw, “And how bad is it?” From the corner of her eye she saw Sonam begin to hit various switches on the instrument panel.

 

“Now I don’t want you to worry…”

 

“Can you answer my questions directly for once?” Shaw cut her off. Suddenly it was like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. If Root…She shook her head. She wasn’t going to do this again.

 

“The Bratva pursued them through the city. They were able to evade them for the most part. Root took out two of their vehicles.”

 

“That a girl,” Sonam interjected. She shrunk in her seat at the force of Shaw’s glare for interrupting.

 

The Machine continued with her report, “The third vehicle had a grenade launcher, and an operative with exceptional aim. Everett couldn’t keep the car on the road. They went into the river.”

 

He was fired again. And dead. Dead and then fired.

 

“Root is a little soggy but fine. She didn’t even get shot in the shoulder this time. Everett however, is a different story.”

 

Yeah, well Shaw had already heard enough of this one. “Where are they?”

 

“Safe, I called in a favor from a friend to handle the cleanup.”

 

Shaw looked over at Sonam who tried to look like she hadn’t been hanging on every word of the conversation. “How far out?”

 

“I’ve already course corrected,” She replied, her tone now all business. “Puts us in the city in under an hour.”

 

“Good,” Shaw nodded. She had a feeling The Machine had timed her announcement for exactly that reason. “The FAA?”

 

“And I already changed the official flight plan and rerouted air traffic accordingly,” The Machine replied. “There’ll be a car waiting for you at the airfield.”

 

Shaw slipped her headset off and stood up. “I’ll go wake up the doc and fill her in.”

 

All things being equal, Lionel Fusco was riding high on the hog these days. He was back on the job thanks to some evidence of a frame up that magically appeared over at IAB. His pension was secure. He hadn’t been shot or stabbed in a few weeks. And, he twirled a set of keys around his index finger, thanks to a parting gift from Glasses, he was living in swanky new digs.

 

The only dark cloud on his horizon was a pile of dead Russians that Dani Silva called him about earlier that evening. Car chase, lots of bullets, a fancy sports car in the river, in fact sounded like a Shaw sized cloud. He smiled to himself as he unlocked the front door. Maybe the crazy had rubbed off on him, because he felt good knowing Shaw was still out there kicking ass and taking names. She could have called to tell him she was fine since disappearing after their last conversation weeks ago, but he supposed the chick never did anything the normal way.

 

Fusco tossed his keys into a bowl on the entryway table. Then he turned and locked the door behind him. He let out a deep breath. Welp, Shaw’s possible return was something to worry about in the morning. For now, he wanted a sandwich and then his bed. He started down the short hallway to the kitchen.

 

His foot slid in something on the floor. Fusco windmilled his arms to keep his balance. When he felt stable, he looked down. There was a dark red smear across the hardwood. Was that blood? He drew his gun. Now that he was paying attention he could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. There was a dolly, like what the hotels used to move luggage next to the kitchen doorway. It was definitely bloody. He took a breath to steady himself and then stepped into the room. “Alright hands up.”

 

Two pale hands with black lacquered nails went into the air. “You’ll have to forgive Everett for not following orders. He’s taking a little nap. Hard night.”

 

Fusco knew that voice. He also knew there was no way he was hearing it right here, right now in his kitchen. He rapidly shook his head, “No, I already survived a cyber apocalypse. I am not signing up for the zombie one.”

 

Root turned around to smile at him, “Put the gun down, Lionel.”

 

“No, if ever there was a reason to keep my gun exactly where it is, it’s the freaking ghost of Christmas past appearing in my kitchen with another body in tow.”

 

“I’m not a ghost,” She scoffed. As if she had the right to act like he was the one being ridiculous right now. Even as a dead woman Root had balls the size of freaking Cleveland.

 

“Could have fooled me, seeing as I identified your body in the morgue not too long ago.” One of the worst days of his freaking life. Sometimes when he closed his eyes he still saw her lifelessly staring up at the ceiling.

 

“Short version, The Machine faked my death. I was in a coma. I got better. After Samaritan went down, She came back online and the numbers never stopped coming.” Root gestured to the young man lying across the table. Kid couldn’t be much older than twenty-one, twenty-two. “My friend and I ran into a little trouble and since there are some very bad men looking for us, a hospital is not an option. So can we stay or do I need to manhandle him back on to that dolly?”

 

The gun stayed right where it was. “Does Shaw know all this?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“She forgive you?”

 

“Since The Machine hatched the plan without my knowledge or permission, Sameen told me there was nothing for me to apologize for.” Root pursed her lips, “I think she still wants to blow up a few of The Machine’s servers, not that I can really blame her.” Logically Root understood why The Machine did it, but the plan was still a sore spot for them both.

 

“I might have to help her with that,” Fusco replied. He finally lowered the gun. Root released a breath. He pointed at the kid, more specifically the strips of crimson stained cloth wrapped around his torso, “You know I’ve got a first aid kit?”

 

“You moved it, she didn’t know where, and I sort of had to get him patched up fast.” Root dipped her head. “She’s already ordered you new towels.” She grinned sheepishly, “And a new kitchen table.” He’d never be able to get the bloodstains out of the grain of the wood.

 

“It’s fine,” Fusco huffed. He stepped into the hallway. Root could hear him climbing up the stairs. “Lee cut his hand on a skate the other day,” His voice echoed through the apartment, “Forgot. Left it in his room.” He quickly returned, a large, white, metal box tucked under his arm.

 

“The only reason why I brought him here is because she assured me Lee was with his mother this weekend.”

 

Fusco held out the box. “I know you wouldn’t mess with my kid, Cocoa Puffs.”

 

“I missed that,” Root smiled as she took the first aid kit from him. “I missed you, Lionel.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. You broads always fall in love with me,” He grumbled. “Frankly, your gushing is sort of embarrassing. Thank god you settled for short, dark and angry.”

 

“Her charm was too much for a simple country gal like me to resist,” Root chuckled as she opened up the box and removed a roll of proper gauze and a small suture kit. Even though the box was stocked far better than your average household kit there were no painkillers. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. Guess it was a good thing Everett was still passed out.

 

Fusco watched her work for a few minutes before speaking again. “I got a heads up from Dani Silva that a bunch of Russians got blown all to hell tonight. Thought it was Shaw, but I guess that was your welcome back party?”

 

So Silva was who The Machine had called in for cleanup. Interesting. “You know me Lionel,” Root grinned, “I never do anything small.”

 

“How do you account for Shaw?” He snorted.

 

“Sameen’s always been my exception.”

 

“And will we be seeing that exception anytime soon?” He figured Shaw would be on her ass like white on rice given the whole back from the dead thing. He was happy for her. She didn’t show it, but he knew Root’s dying had torn her up bad.

 

“Won’t be long now,” Root replied, The Machine had filled her in on Shaw’s change in travel plans just before Lionel came in. She began stitching up a bullet graze on Everett’s side. She’d leave the two larger wounds as they were for now, knowing that Dr. Kinney was in route. Her sutures were far less likely to scar.

 

“I should probably order some food then.”

 

“Park’s deli is closed by now,” She noted, not taking her eyes from her work. “But Sameen did mention missing quote, unquote real pizza the other day.”

 

Fusco fumbled with his phone. “You still all about that rabbit food?”

 

She looked up at him, “Oh I’m not…”

 

“Don’t even start,” He interrupted her. “You honestly think Shaw is going to let you skip a meal after being in whatever crazy situation left you on my doorstep with wet hair, a poorly concealed knot on your head, and a friend full of holes?”

 

Root sighed. He had a very good point. Sameen was likely to be livid. No need to poke the grumpy bear. “Get something with vegetables.” She thought about it for a moment, “And order extra, Shaw will be bringing friends.” Sonam could eat almost as much as Sameen.

 

“Of course she will,” Fusco snorted. “So enough pizza to feed the starting line for the Jets, including one veggie lovers.” He started tapping the screen with his thumb. He stopped after a few minutes to squint at the phone. “That’s not my credit card information.”

 

Root smiled as she tied off the row of stitches, “The Machine says it’s her shout.”

 

“Damn right,” He grumbled. “Okay, they’ll be here in about forty-five minutes.”

 

“I call dibs on pepperoni,” Everett groaned.

 

“Hey,” Root said softly, moving into his line of sight. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I got shot, run over, and shot again.” He blinked at Root. His eyes were glassy from pain. “You okay?”

 

Root smiled at him, “Perfectly fine thanks to you.” She pointed over her shoulder at Fusco, “Everett meet Lionel. Lionel this is Everett.”

 

“Hey man, sorry about the mess,” Everett groaned.

 

“It’s fine kid.”

 

Root picked up a hand towel and delicately wiped Everett’s brow. “Lionel is gonna let us crash here until you’re ready to be moved. And Sara should be here soon with some painkillers.”

 

“He doesn’t look that good, Cocoa Puffs.” The fact that the kid was talking was encouraging, but he looked awfully pale. He’d lost too much blood ruining Fusco’s table. “You sure we can’t sneak him into an ER?”

 

“She says no.” Root shook her head. Hospitals were still out of the question. “Everett’s a tough guy, he can hold on.”

 

“Sure,” The kid groaned. “Made it this far didn’t I?” He closed his eyes and then opened them again, “Think Shaw will take pity on me and save the ass kicking until after I’ve had painkillers?”

 

“I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“Great, in that case I think I’m going to pass out again.”

 

“Go with that feeling kid,” Fusco grumbled. “It’ll make things a lot less painful when Tiny gets here.”

 

The pizzas made it before Shaw but only just. Root, having done all she could for Everett for the moment, had moved into the living room with Fusco to let him rest. The Machine was monitoring his vitals through a fitness wristband. She’d alert Root if she was needed.

 

They had stacked the pizza boxes all over the coffee table. Fusco opened the box of a jumbo meat explosion and was just about to take a bite when they heard the sound of tires squealing. “The hell?” He grunted. Root simply smiled. The sound of the front door slamming open a moment later caused the detective to stand and draw his gun.

 

“Relax, it’s Shaw,” Root told him before the woman herself appeared. Two other women followed shortly behind her. One was carrying a large bag; Fusco would wager it was basically a portable field hospital.

 

“Everett is in the kitchen,” Root called out. “First archway on your left.” The woman with the bag nodded and walked in that direction. After a beat, the other one followed.

 

Shaw stomped in to the living room and pulled Root to her feet. “Sameen I’m okay,” She began to protest.

 

“Shut up.” Shaw proceeded to poke and prod at Root until she was satisfied the other woman was mostly unharmed. Even going so far as to pull her top up in front of Fusco, who at least averted his gaze in a sense of self preservation.

 

“Hi, Lionel. How ya been? Oh fine. So Root’s been alive this entire time. Oh really that’s insane. Well, you know our perky psycho. Yeah. So how’s your kid been? Lee’s great about to start club season in hockey,” Fusco rumbled from behind her.

 

“Hi, Lionel. Kindly shut the fuck up before I shoot you,” Shaw growled not looking at him as she continued her inspection.

 

He glanced over her shoulder at Root, “You know I thought she’d be in a better mood hanging around you full time.”

 

Shaw finally turned her head to glare at him, “Have you met Root?”

 

“Lionel, can you give us a minute?”

 

“Sure Nutella, I’ll go introduce myself to the randoms your girlfriend just let into my house.” He picked up two of the pizza boxes and made his way out of the room.

 

Once they were alone Root took Shaw’s hands in her own, “I’m alright.”

 

“Is that what you call the seatbelt shaped contusions across your chest and that knot on your head?” Her eyes narrowed. She was staring at the head wound like it had insulted her personally.

 

“What this?” Root let go of Shaw’s left hand to point to the wound. She’d smacked her head on the door frame of the car in the accident. She was only unconscious for like a second. Honestly, it could have been so much worse. If Sameen would settle down and take a breath she’d realize that. “You’ve given me worse during sex.”

 

“Yeah, you’re not going to be getting any of that for a while.”

 

Root snorted, “Like you’d really cut yourself off. Honestly, Sameen stick to realistic threats.”

 

“How about this for realistic? I’m not letting you out of my sight again. Even if I have to duct tape you to my ass.”

 

“That’s not a threat, that’s a party.” Shaw closed her eyes and let out a few tiny, frustrated growls. Root wanted to scoop her up for being adorable but knew that would likely end up with her on the floor and not for fun times. “Sam?” She gently prodded instead, “Can you talk to me?”

 

Shaw opened her eyes, “You can never do things the easy way can you?”

 

“This wasn’t my fault,” Root held up her hands. “Everything was going exactly to plan until it wasn’t.”

 

“The Machine told me about Claire Mahoney.”

 

“Who knew she survived the purge after Samaritan went down?”

 

“We should have,” Shaw grumbled. “When we get back home,” She stumbled a bit over the word, though Root wisely didn’t make a fuss over it, “We need to figure out exactly where every member of Team Samaritan ended up.” Shaw shook her head, “The last thing I need is to run into creepy Stewart.”

 

Root tilted her head in confusion, “Who?”

 

Shaw’s eyes widened the slightest bit. As if she hadn’t realized she was giving something away by mentioning the name. “He uh, helped Lambert run the simulations,” She mumbled. She turned away from Root and went over to the window.

 

“Find him,” Root hissed under her breath. “If he’s alive I’ll make sure he won’t be for long.” The Machine told her she’d take care of it. She may have learned to value life but there were always exceptions. Anyone who harmed Sameen was a big one.  

 

“I’ll let you know if he turns up,” The Machine whispered through her implant. With that reassurance, she turned her attention back to Shaw.

 

“The mission honestly wasn’t that screwed up,” Root told Shaw stepping within arm’s reach but not touching her just yet. “The hack was successful.” She smiled, “I didn’t get shot this time.”

 

Shaw interrupted her, “No thanks to the kid.”

 

“Did she tell you that when the tires blew out our options were hit oncoming traffic with the passenger side of the car or go in the river?” Shaw shook her head. No, The Machine had not mentioned that detail. “Everett would have fared better keeping the car on the road. He put the car in the river to make sure I had the best chance of surviving. Then when we were in the water he pulled me out of the car, Sameen. And then put himself between me and several bullets when what was left of the Bratva found us on the street later.”

 

“Fine, I won’t kill him,” She huffed.

 

“Thank you, Sweetie.”

 

Shaw kept her gaze focused out of the window. The street in front of the house was deserted, quiet. “I don’t know how to do this.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. Almost timid.

 

“Do what?”

 

“See you get hurt without feeling like I need to break things.” She swallowed, “I could before but now…” She trailed off. Before Samaritan, before Root died, she hadn’t felt this way. She hadn’t felt much at all. It was so different now when it came to Root. Shaw had been dancing on the edge ever since The Machine had said there was a problem. “It’s stupid.”

 

“Nothing about you is stupid.”

 

“Feels that way,” Shaw exhaled loudly. “The really stupid thing is even now I know I’m not experiencing this like you would in my place.” She glanced over her shoulder at Root. Shaw might feel like she’s drowning in noise, but she was probably only dealing with a fraction of what normal people did. “How the hell do people cope with this quivering mass of crazy in their gut their entire lives? How does anything ever get done?”

 

Root placed a tentative hand on her back. “You’re doing just fine.”

 

“I’m not sure that I am.”

 

“I am,” Root swore. “I am absolutely certain. You never falter, Sam. Never.”

 

Her shoulders slumped, a bit of her tension melting away at the utter conviction in Root’s voice. “Are you going to lecture me about shapes again?”

 

“I could cut to the chase and just tell you how much I adore your ass?”

 

Shaw chuckled. “No more car chases without me,” She grumbled. “It’s like you’re cursed.”

 

Root smiled, if Shaw could joke, she could cope. They’d get the hang of everything else eventually. “You know I can’t make any promises.”

 

“Try.”

 

Root slipped her arm around Shaw’s waist and pulled her back to her front. She tucked her chin over her shoulder. “Anything for you.”

 

Shaw allowed it for a minute before shoving Root away. “Come on, Doc should know if dumbass will live or not by now, and we need to get some ice on that knot on your head.”

 

Dr. Kinney had commended Root on her patch work. Thanks to it, Everett would indeed live to see another day. Since she had taken a nap on the plane, she offered to take the first watch sitting up monitoring him for the night. Everyone else had a quick dinner and then Fusco sorted out a place for them all to sleep. It was decided that Root and Shaw would double up in one guest room, leaving the second open for Dr. Kinney, when she finished her watch.

 

Sonam was left to crash in Lee’s room. When Fusco attempted to offer up his own queen sized bed, with a chivalrous offer to take his son’s smaller one, she waved him off, pointing to the entertainment system across from the twin bed. “Kid’s got the latest Call of Duty. I’m more than good.”

 

After that, Fusco spent a few minutes going between the rooms getting everything set up. None of the bed’s outside of Lee’s were made since he didn’t exactly get a lot of guests. “Try to keep it down, I do have to go in to work sometime tomorrow,” Fusco muttered as he handed Root a stack of clean linens.

 

“What sort of women do you take us for, Detective?” Root scoffed in mock offence. “We know how to be proper guests.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her, completely unamused. “Don’t break anything either.”

 

“Goodnight, Lionel,” Shaw snapped shoving the door closed in his face.

 

“You try to be hospitable to people,” They heard him grumble. After a beat his heavy footsteps moved away from the door and down the hallway.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes as Root giggled, “I really do miss him sometimes.”

 

“You miss having someone else to annoy.” Sonam and Dr. Kinney just seemed to roll with whatever random verbal punches Root threw at them, and all Everett ever did was awkwardly flirt and/or stammer.

 

“He makes it so easy.”

 

Shaw tapped the stack of cloth in her hands. She nodded towards the bed. “How about you make the bed?”

 

Root clicked her tongue, “These little domestic fantasies of yours are so appallingly heteronormative.” At Shaw’s unimpressed glare, she rolled her eyes, “You know there was a time when you could take a joke.” She shook her head, “Okay, even I can’t make that one sound believable.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes right back and took the fitted sheet from her. She reached up and pat Root on the cheek. “At least you’re learning.” She walked over to the bed. “Now help me with this before I strangle you with it.”

 

“Now Sameen, I told Lionel we’d behave. Don’t be a tease.”

 

Five hours later the alarm on Shaw’s cell phone sounded spurring her to wakefulness. Root grumbled but didn’t fully wake up from the sound, as she was sleeping on her good ear. Since her…accident, she had taken to turning off the implant while she slept so she’d actually get proper rest. Shaw sat up after silencing the alarm and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was time for her to relieve Dr. Kinney.

 

She smiled as Shaw walked into the kitchen. “His color is getting better.” There had been a supply of blood in the suburban waiting for them at the airport. She had been able to begin a transfusion almost immediately, getting Everett’s blood volume back up to near normal proportions. The results were already promising.

 

“Good,” Shaw nodded. “What time should I give him his next round of meds?” The doc carried an assortment of general antibiotics and painkillers in her field kit. A clear bag of fluids now hung above the table, plastic tubing directing its contents into Everett’s arm.

 

“Give it another three hours unless he wakes up in pain.”

 

Shaw settled into a chair next to the table. “Your bedroom is the second on the left.”

 

“Thank you, Shaw.” Dr. Kinney gave her a tired smile. “I’ll see you in the morning. Well, I suppose later this morning.”

 

“Night, Doc.” She sat and stared at Everett for a while. She kept a mental count of his breaths. They were even, steady. It was a good sign.

 

Unbidden, her mind soon began to wander to how he ended up on this table. From what Root had told her the mission had been a success until someone decided to interfere. What would have happened if Everett hadn’t been as skilled of a driver? What would have happened if Root had been alone out there tonight? Shaw didn’t like the conclusions she came to. She stood up.

 

“Don’t decide to up and stroke out or anything, kid. I’ll be right back.”

 

Shaw pulled out her cellphone. She dialed what was once one of John’s burner numbers and stepped through the back door. After one ring the line connected. “Shaw, you know you can speak to me directly with your ear piece or through the speakers of any number of electronics in the house.”

 

“If I want god and everyone to hear what I have to say, yeah.” This was a conversation she did not want to risk Root waking up and overhearing.

 

“So this is a private chat?” The Machine asked, “Assuming I’m the god in this analogy.”

 

“We still have a loose end.” Shaw’s fist clenched around her cellphone. She had energy to burn.

 

“Claire Mahoney.”

 

“Yeah, you’re going to help me tie her up.”

 

“Kinky.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Why do you and Root have to make everything weird?”

 

“Why are we doing this again?” Sonam asked later that morning. Shaw had left the doc to watch over Everett. The Machine had come up with a coding-related distraction for Root. Which meant she had to bring Sonam along. She was riding shotgun for this mission, much to Fusco’s protests. He had been literally relegated to the backseat.

 

“Because this little psycho needs help before she grows up into a complete nut job,” Fusco grumbled.

 

Sonam glanced over at Shaw, who shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” Granted, her first impulse was to not let Claire grow up at all. After mulling it over she decided to settle on the three strikes approach. Chick was already at a full count. One more transgression and Shaw would put her out for good.

 

“She knows too much,” She explained further. “But since we’re supposed to be good guys…”

 

“I am a good guy,” Fusco interrupted. “You two are vigilantes.”

 

Shaw glared at him through the rearview mirror, “Who was taking out rogue FBI agents a few months ago?”

 

“Special circumstances,” He grunted, “Besides, guy had it coming.”

 

“Uh huh.” She shifted her focus back on to the road.

 

Sonam turned in her seat to give Fusco a once over, “You’re actually more interesting than I thought.”

 

He leaned forward to tap Shaw on the shoulder. “How the hell does that magic 8 ball of yours manage to find every nut job on the planet to work for it?”

 

“Sonam passed all her psych evaluations,” The Machine replied through the car’s speakers.

 

“And why do you still sound like Root?” He threw up his hands, “We know she’s alive.” Granted, he was apparently the last to know. But still, the world didn’t need two of them.

 

“I like this voice.”

 

Fusco leaned back in his seat, “I just answered my own question. Damn robot is crazy too.”

 

“Lionel,” Shaw growled as she pulled the car to a stop. “I didn’t bring you along to complain.” Frankly, she didn’t want to bring him at all but he had caught them sneaking out and wouldn’t let them go without him. Something about drawing the line at murdering the barely legal.

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” He huffed opening up his door. “By the way, I’m not covering for you lunatics if you get caught.” He quickly scrambled out of the car. Shaw and Sonam shared an amused look and then climbed out themselves.

 

“Fourth floor,” The Machine told them through their ear pieces. “Room 415.”

 

Fusco flashed his badge at the nurses’ station. He told the Charge Nurse that he needed a status update on their Jane Doe. Sonam, dressed in a borrowed patrol uniform, relieved the officer on duty from his post at Claire Mahoney’s room door. His actual replacement had been reassigned for the day, thanks to The Machine. All that left Shaw with a clear path to her target.

 

With a final nod to Sonam to keep everyone out, she stepped into the room. Claire was halfway reclining in bed. Her eyes were closed but Shaw could tell by her breathing that she was awake. She wandered to the foot of the bed and picked up the chart hanging there.

 

“They already did morning rounds,” Claire rasped. Her arm was in a navy blue sling. A neat row of sutures trailed from her hairline down through her left eyebrow. Girl had a nasty black eye to match.

 

“Do I look like a doctor?” Shaw replied. She was dressed for the occasion as well, black slacks, white button down, black jacket. She’d worn the clothes when playing OSHA inspector on her last mission. The outfit worked just as well for a NYPD Detective, should anyone get past Sonam to ask.

 

Claire opened her eyes. “Actually, no you don’t.” She sat up a bit more, curious.

 

Shaw ran her eyes over the chart, slight concussion, bruised ribs, broken arm, sprained ankle. Girl had been lucky. If Everett had been going just the slightest bit faster, the damage would probably have been fatal. “You were a fortunate little rat, weren’t you Claire?”

 

The girl’s eyes narrowed, “How do you know that name?”

 

“You mean since you came in as a Jane Doe?” Shaw cocked an eyebrow, “Feigning memory loss was smart. Would have made it difficult for anyone who wasn’t me to track you down.” And anyone who didn’t have an ASI in their ear, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. She put the chart back into its holder.

 

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Well, the girl had a set on her didn’t she? “I don’t even know you.”

 

“My name is Shaw.” She smirked at Claire’s wide eyes. Kid looked like she’d seen an entire haunted house worth of ghosts. “So Greer told you about me. Good.” That should save them some time.

 

“He told me Samaritan captured you.” Her left hand began to slide towards the call button. Not that anyone would be answering on the other end. The Machine would make sure of that.

 

“And how did that work out for Megatron?” Shaw paced back and forth. “Let’s see, he’s dead partially thanks to me. Your boss, Greer, well he’s dead too.” Unfortunately, Shaw had not had much to directly do with that one. “Lambert, did you ever meet him? Kind of a douche. Also dead. Put a bullet in him personally.”

 

Shaw stopped and leaned over the foot of the bed, “But before all that Samaritan had me trapped in its own version of virtual hell and you know what?” She paused for effect, a bit of Root’s flair for drama obviously had rubbed off on her. “I beat your would be robot overlord every single time. Over seven thousand simulations and I won each and every one of them. Samaritan never got what it ultimately wanted from me.”

 

“So what do you want?”

 

“To have a little chat.”

 

“I won’t tell you anything.” She clenched her jaw, “I won’t beg either.” Shaw had to give it to Claire, she was brave. A complete and total moron to mess with Root, and then get mouthy with her after the fact, but brave.

 

“That’s fine,” Shaw replied. “I just need you to listen.”

 

Claire nodded, “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

 

“That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one day.”

 

She cocked her head to the side. “That would mean that I’d have another day to look forward to. Makes your whole menacing act a bit less scary.”

 

Shaw smirked, “That depends entirely on how well you listen to me now. So try to contain the smart ass remarks.” When the girl kept her mouth shut for a few moments Shaw continued. “I know you’re the one that dimed my friends out to the Bratva. Unfortunately for you, the local chapter is about as good at assassination as you are at dodging cars.”

 

“Though you’re lucky,” Shaw continued. “Root was able to walk away from the crash with nothing but a little bump.” She moved around to the head of the bed. She reached out her left hand. Claire flinched but couldn’t move that far away. The tips of Shaw’s fingers brushed against her temple. She could hear the click of the call button being depressed repeatedly. “Did Greer happen to mention the fact that Root and I were involved during story time?”

 

Claire shakily nodded. “He may have mentioned it when briefing me on your team.”

 

Shaw reached out and grasped her chin. She forced Claire to meet her gaze. “So what do you think I’d do to you for hurting her?” She reached out with her free hand, and pressed down on the stiches covering Claire’s head wound.

 

“Guard!” Claire called out in pain.

 

Shaw eased up, the room wasn’t sound proof. Sonam could only put off so many people for so long if anyone got nosey. Not that the girl realized that at the moment. “Yell all you like. No one is coming to help you. You don’t seem to have any friends left, whereas I do. One of them is guarding the door. Another is keeping the nurses occupied.” Point made, she let Claire go and stepped back.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

Shaw answered her question with a question. “What would you do in my place? You know an awful lot about me and mine and seem to be holding an extremely inconvenient grudge.”

 

“Samaritan offered me a chance.”

 

“No, Finch offered you a chance and you threw it back in his face. People were just a means to an end with Samaritan.” Shaw knew that better than anyone.

 

“You don’t understand, my parents…”

 

“Boo hoo, life is hard.” Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really think you’re the only one who’s ever lost somebody?”

 

She actually appeared ashamed. “No, I know I’m not but…”

 

“But what? You’re entitled to your tantrum?” God, she fucking hated teenagers.

 

Now Claire looked like she was about to cry. “I just wanted to do something. To change something.”

 

“You wanted to inflict damage,” Shaw corrected her. “You went all Dark Willow but you don’t have any friends to give you a stupid speech about yellow crayons to knock some sense into you.”

 

“Is that why you’re here? To bring me back from the brink?” The girl almost looked hopeful. Like all she wanted was someone to reign her in. Shaw bit her lip, it made sense now how easily Greer was able to manipulate this kid. She wanted someone to give a damn. Finch had tried, but she hadn’t been ready.  Maybe she was ready now. Maybe Skynet was right about this whole redemption thing being possible.

 

Still, a line had to be drawn first.

 

“No, I’m here to tell you that I am the brink. And if you even think of going anywhere near Root again I will send you straight to hell with Samaritan and the rest of his little cronies. I will make it messy. And I promise you it will take a long time.”

 

“W-why?” Claire stuttered. “Why not just kill me now?”

 

Shaw ignored her. “A woman named Zoe will be here this afternoon. You’re going to go with her and my other friend who’s waiting outside. You’ll listen to what she has to say. You will get help for your little issues. You will do the work, keep your nose clean.” Shaw took a deep breath. “And you will stay away from Root or I’ll make good on every nightmare you’ve ever had.”

 

Claire nodded. “Okay.” Maybe the kid wasn’t a complete idiot.

 

Shaw turned towards the door. She felt like they had an understanding. “Oh Claire,” She paused with her hand on the door handle, “If you’re thinking about pulling a fast one on me? Remember Big Sister is always watching.” She walked through the door before the girl could reply.

 

“All set?” Sonam asked looking up at Shaw. She’d found some tabloid magazines and a cup of coffee already.

 

“Yeah,” Shaw checked her watch. “Zoe should be here in about two hours.” They were lucky she was working stateside this week.

 

“Excellent,” She held up one of the magazines. A Kardashi-something or other was pouting at the world from the cover. “I’ve time to finish catching up on my celebrity gossip.” Woman was so random.

 

Shaw shook her head, “Lionel?”

 

Sonam nodded down the corridor. “Vending machines. He couldn’t hold two coffees and my reading material.”

 

“You good here then?”

 

“Aces!” Sonam saluted her with her cup of coffee. “Go on now. I’ll keep the rabid ankle biter right where you want her, Chief.”

 

Shaw left to collect Fusco. She figured the two of them could pick up some breakfast. Then she’d drop him off at the precinct before heading back to the townhouse to explain things to Root. Told him as much when she found him. They argued whether to stop for doughnuts or breakfast burritos as they made their way through the building. The plan was slightly altered, however, when they stepped outside to find Root was waiting for them in the parking lot.

 

Shaw addressed her first, “You here to scold me?”

 

She ignored Shaw’s question completely. “Lionel, the taxi over there is going to take you to a crime scene. She says the neighbor in 5E did it. Check his shoes.”

 

“Uh thanks, Nutter Butter.”

 

“What are friends for?” She smiled at him. “See you tonight, I’m making lasagna for dinner.”

 

He shrugged. That wasn’t nearly the weirdest thing she had ever said to him. Plus, free food. “Get…”

 

“Extra garlic bread,” Root interrupted him. “Yes, already on my shopping list.”

 

Fusco shook his head. “See you later, Shaw.” She grunted a goodbye, not taking her eyes off of Root. He chuckled and made his way over to the taxi.

 

“Well?” Shaw groused once they were alone.

 

Root smiled and then looped her arm through Shaw’s. “Walk with me.” They traveled a few blocks in silence. “I missed this,” She finally sighed. “Not to sound like a complete sap, but even though home is anywhere I’m with my best girl, New York holds its own magic.” Her voice turned wistful, “Especially with my best girl by my side.”

 

Shaw wasn’t buying her act, “If you think you’re going to lull me into a false sense of security…”

 

“Sameen, I don’t know what you think you’ve done that I’d be angry about.” Shaw opened her mouth to reply but Root kept right on talking. “You came here to make sure Claire didn’t start any more trouble and you and The Machine are trying to get her some help. Why exactly would I be angry about that?”

 

Oh Shaw could list several reasons. “You really confuse me.” She genuinely thought Root would make a bigger deal about this. Its why she didn’t tell her about the plan to begin with.

 

“Because I wanted to kill her myself once upon a time?” Root shook her head, “We were at war. It’s over now.”

 

“Bygones?” Shaw couldn’t believe it. “Really?”

 

“We won.” Root shrugged, “It makes me magnanimous.” She tugged Shaw towards a small café. “Besides, I had done far worse by her age. If someone had tried to help me then…”

 

“We’d probably all be dead,” Shaw snorted. Root had pulled their collective asses out of several fires over the years. “You also wouldn’t have met me.”

 

“True. You know, by that logic you may have just doomed that girl to a lonely existence,” Root teased.

 

“Yeah well if she decides to go full on supervillain because of it, I’ll put a bullet in her.” If she so much as thought about being another psycho’s henchmen she’d put a bullet in her. She’d probably do it if she cheated on her taxes, just in the interest of national security of course. Bottom line, there were limits to the number of second chances she was willing to hand out.

 

“After your little speech she’d be an idiot to cause any more trouble.” Shaw frowned knowing that The Machine must have patched Root into the comms to listen in. Root squeezed her arm. “I do so love the way you craft a threat.”

 

“Blame Big Sister,” Shaw grumbled. “She’s the one who was all team use your words. I was going to lead with a scalpel…”

 

“Not a hammer?” Root grinned as she held open the café door and waved Shaw forward. The smell of roasting coffee beans and sugared dough wafted out around them. “Wouldn’t threatening a teen mean it’s hammer time?”

 

“You’re really not as funny as you think you are.”

 

Later that night, after three generous portions of Root’s lasagna, Shaw sat out on the rooftop deck of Fusco’s townhouse. She swirled three fingers of scotch around in a rocks glass. Lionel didn’t drink of course but he’d kept Finch’s stocked liquor cabinet for guests. She held the glass up in mock salute and then took a hearty sip.

 

“Shaw,” The Machine’s voice drifted out to her from the portable speaker system. Shaw idly wondered between the liquor, multiple guest rooms, and the deck if this place had been Finch’s nerdy party pad or something back in the day. “You’re about to have company.”

 

She sat up with a scowl. Shaw hoped that didn’t mean she was going to have to work tonight. “Which one?”

 

“Lionel.” Shaw relaxed back in her seat. If it was Fusco, then it wasn’t about a mission.

 

The man himself stepped outside just a few seconds afterwards, “Here you are. Should’ve known I’d find you up here lurking in the shadows.”

 

She didn’t look back at him. “You miss me that much, Lionel?”

 

“Just making sure you didn’t leave me alone with the traveling insane asylum.” It’d be just like Shaw to dump all these randoms into his lap and then leave them there to be his problem while she and Nutella wandered off to save the world again.

 

“The Doc isn’t that bad.”

 

“Her I do like.” Yeah, Shaw realized that. Fusco had taken every opportunity tonight to awkwardly chat Dr. Kinney up. To her credit she hadn’t hit him with anything for it yet. She was a classier, and much more patient woman than Shaw, that was for sure.

 

She took a sip of her whiskey, relishing the burn all the way down her throat. “So why’d you really come looking?”

 

“We haven’t had a chance to catch up,” He replied. He never got Shaw alone the night before and she was too busy playing secret agent that morning.

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at that, “Are we the sort of people who catch up now?”

 

“I guess not,” He grumbled as he took a seat in the deck chair next to hers. “But you couldn’t have given me a phone call to tell me Cocoa Puffs was alive?”

 

So that was his angle. “Oops,” She shrugged.

 

“Seriously?” He thought they’d already had this discussion after the cyber apocalypse. Friends called each other when they survived death knocking at their door.

 

Shaw took another drink. “You said you were out, Lionel.”

 

“It aint about the game of Risk you psychos are playing on a daily basis.” He didn’t have to be back in, to want to know they were alright.

 

“Yes, it is,” She countered sitting up and turning in her seat to fully face him.

 

He sucked in a breath, puffing out his chest like an indignant toad. “Explain that logic to me.”

 

“We’re doing the same crazy shit. Except this time, we have all the relevant numbers too, since Samaritan is no more and Big Sister has no interest in working with the current regime at the pentagon.” Sure Zoe was working on setting up couple of other teams to pick up the slack. But for now they handled the relevant end of things on their own. That meant more danger. More chance one of them wouldn’t make it back from a mission. Though it was slightly ironic that Root’s side trip to pick up a stray irrelevant job to help work out Everett, ended up being the first one where someone on the team got seriously hurt. “What good would it do to tell you Root was alive if she could die for real tomorrow?”

 

“Are you trying to tell me you wanted to spare my feelings?” He gaped at her, “You?”

 

“Screw you, Lionel,” She snapped.

 

“Tempting, but I’m pretty sure your favorite Fruit Loop would have my balls for it.”

 

Of course Root found them just then. She stepped out on to the deck with a wide smile. “What are we talking about?”

 

“Lionel’s balls,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

Root’s features twisted in disgust, “Sorry, I asked.” She came over and settled herself into Shaw’s lap. Before she could protest, Root plucked the tumbler from her hand and finished off her drink.

 

“You’re going downstairs and pouring me another one of those,” Shaw huffed.

 

Root kissed her on the cheek, “Of course, Sweetie.” Shaw’s frown deepened. But Root made no move to get back up and fetch her refill. Finally, after a brief stare off she puffed out a breath and scooted back in the seat to give them both more room. Root’s left arm went over her shoulders while she snaked an arm around her waist to keep her stable as they shifted. No one commented on the fact that she kept her arm there once they were settled.

 

Though Root smirked at her as she set the glass down on the ground next to the chair.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. It was a damn good thing Root was hot and could cook as well as she did. She wouldn’t put up with this crap from just anyone. In fact, she’d shot people for less. Root simply smiled wider, as if she knew exactly what Shaw was thinking.

 

Fusco grinned. Happy looked good on them. God knows the pair of them had earned it. “Shaw was just saying how you nut bars were going to check in monthly from now on.”

 

“We are?” Root looked at him with not a little bit shock on her face. She glanced back at Shaw. She blinked at her, apparently this was new information to her as well.

 

“You are.” Fusco sucked in his cheeks. “You two idiots and Lee are the only family I got left.” Maybe he was crazy for giving a damn about them but it was too late now. They’d been to war together. They were stuck with him for life.

 

“And me!”

 

“No,” Fusco shook his head, “I am not claiming the robot.” That was a bridge too damn far.

 

“Don’t be rude, Lionel,” Root chastised him. “She cares about you. You’re already family to her.”

 

Fusco glanced over at Shaw for support. She glared at him, “If I’m stuck with Optimus Prime all up in my business then so are you.”

 

“But you’re,” He waved his hand between her and Root. “Shacking up with her human data port or whatever.”

 

“Human data port?” Root scoffed, utterly offended. “Seriously?” Shaw chuckled beneath her. So Root elbowed her in the ribs.

 

“Wonder Boy wasn’t solid on all the specifics when he clued me in.”

 

“Obviously not,” Root grumbled. The Big Lug never did learn how to properly speak nerd.

 

“I’ll buy you a new car,” The Machine offered, getting back to the real subject.

 

Fusco scoffed, “You think I’m that easy?” Besides he could borrow a car from work whenever he needed one. And this place was close to the subway. It was going to take much more than that.

 

“You should be at your age,” Shaw quipped, “And paygrade.” She glanced up at Root. “We do get paid for this again right?” Sure they had the house in Canada and all the weapons and ammo they could want just appeared in the armory but a woman needed her own sandwich money from time to time.

 

Root shrugged, “I always did.”

 

“Stealing money from drug dealers isn’t exactly the same thing as getting paid,” Fusco grumbled.

 

“It is if you do it right,” She idly countered. Root was paying far more attention to the way Shaw was ever so slightly leaning in to her left hand as she played with the baby-fine hairs on the back of her neck. Such a good little alley cat. She was definitely going to make her purr later.

 

“And I do just fine,” Fusco argued further, glaring at Shaw.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw waved her hand dismissively, “I know, your precious pension is secure.”

 

He jabbed a thick finger at her, “Does the Go-Bot give you a 401K?”

 

“You think I’m going to live long enough to retire?”

 

Root elbowed her again. “Sweetie, we don’t joke about that.”

 

“Since when?” Shaw scoffed.

 

“Since we both nearly died in the past 18 months.”

 

“Cocoa Puffs has got a point, Shaw. It’s like tempting fate at this point.”

 

She shook her head, “The two of you are too sensitive.” Then she smirked, “Hey Big Sister, what are our odds?”

 

“Slightly better than Lionel’s if he continues to eat as much as he did this evening.”

 

“Hey,” He squeaked. Shaw practically cackled. “That aint the way to engender yourself into my good graces there Rosie.” He smirked at Root, “Guess your god here don’t know people as well as you think.”

 

She just smiled mysteriously, “I think it’s time you brought out the big gun.” Fusco scowled in confusion, had the pair of them been discussing this before now?

 

“Very well,” The Machine practically sighed, “A car and season tickets to the Islanders, for life.”

 

Fusco gaped like a particularly bloated fish for a few minutes before shaking his head. He then stood up, his arms stretched wide, “Welcome to the family.”

 


End file.
